The Mercenary
by DarkFurredWolf
Summary: My life spirals out of control. This woman... who is she? What is her purpose? What does she want with me? I wish I could forget about what happened. I just want to move on. I want to be left alone. Please, let me fade into the background...
1. Chapter 1

I'll say that even though the other stories I wrote are already written and in progress, I want to feel as those were preliminary. Looking back at them, finished and unfinished, I feel that my writing was a lot less developed than it could've been. So, without further ado, I'm unveiling this story in hopes that I can make it into something that would be more of what I would want it to be. I want it to be something that people can enjoy, and something that I can write with realism that is fantastic, yet fictional and true to what I feel a story should be like, now that I've become more set in my ways. I want it to feel like you're looking through the eyes of someone else and watching their life from their perspective. Therefore, I give you this story…

X

The Mercenary

Chapter One

-x-x-x-x-x-

I feel as though that moment was a surreal point in my life. It was so slowly paced and drawn out it felt like hell. My heart had stopped, my brain had ceased to function, and the only thing I could do at the moment was watch things play out as if I were an audience member at some play.

Everything up until then in my life would be described as something that would be ideal for any child to grow up in. It could be thought of as something that everyone would wish their families and early lives to be like. There was the caring mother, the strong and morally just father, the playful yet knowledgeable older sibling, and the carefree younger sibling that was yet to be exposed to the universe in a way such as to learn life. Yet, growing up, I've always had this yearning. I've always had this knack for exploration and wonderment that has constantly made me want to indulge in the acquisition of knowledge and experience. I wanted to get outside of the life I had and see things, to be on my own. I had no idea that I was going to be on my own like this.

That moment, hell, was the turning point in my life. No longer was I that younger sibling that had been kept hidden from the evil and realistic views of the world. No, I had been exposed to it in such a way that most people would call it trauma, but now, I feel that it's just part of life. As time goes by, I feel that I'm just going through the motions. I have no purpose anymore, my life is ruined before it could even get started, and it doesn't feel like I have anything left to look up to. That moment took away everything that I had. Looking at the situation I'm now in, I feel that the only thing I can do is allow the remnants of that moment to take over what was left of my life and change my destiny. People say that your destiny is what you're willing to make of it. Fate works in a way that can steer destiny off course.

The only thing left that I could do was look up at the night sky and hope that tomorrow was going to be a better day. I lay on the bench, clutching that accursed paper, and crying softly in my heart. I mourned the fate that I was given, and drifted off into the blackness that was limbo.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Rain... Rain began to fall on my body and I was roused from my sleep. The morning was cold, the skies were gray, and a fair amount of weather had moved in and soaked me to the bone in my sleep. It looked like it was going to keep raining.

As I pried my body out of its slumber and stood from the bench, I felt the paper within my fist. I grimaced and recalled what the paper spelled out to me in letters and text. I didn't bother to tie my shoes, adjust my hair, adjust my clothes, or do any sort of thing that would be considered hygienic or appropriate for the public. I just walked to the nearest awning I could and slumped down next to the concrete wall.

It probably wouldn't be long until the owner of the shop would open the door and—

Too late, he stepped out.

"Look, I'm sorry, I'll go. Just don't yell, please…" It was all anybody would do for me anymore. Yell at me, give me disgusting looks, or call me names: it didn't change anything, and it didn't help my situation.

"Wait. If you don't step inside, you'll get sick. You're sopping wet and it's cold. I keep a spare change of clothes in the back for my employees. You can borrow them, just come inside." He was a large, imposing man. When I first looked at him, his demeanor changed. His features had softened and he turned kind. Was I that bad off?

He began to grow impatient as I stood there. The shop had just opened. "Well, are you going to come inside, or are you going to be impolite?"

I felt awkward. I was out of place, I was displeasing to look at, and I knew that if I stuck around long, I would become a bother to this man and he would kick me to the curb.

"Suit yourself." He turned around and walked inside. I felt the gust of wind off of the door when it shut. Whatever compelled me to do what I did, I don't know. I would assume it was out of a need for survival.

As the door shut, I grabbed it and stepped inside behind the man. He heard me enter and he spoke. "Head to the bathroom... it's over in the corner to your left. I'll go get those clothes. What size do you wear?"

"Extra large, please..." The old dog stood, judging me with his eyes before he nodded and walked off.

A few seconds later, I was standing in the bathroom. He knocked on the door, opened it slightly, and passed the clothes through without opening the door fully. "Just put these on. I'll have you some food ready shortly to warm you up." Taking the clothes, I closed the door as he walked off.

The shirt was a red, button-up, open-collared shirt that featured the logo of the little café that I was in. He had also given me a pair of black khaki dress pants to put on in place of my present pants. My shirt came off first and I paused to look at myself in the mirror. I was of a moderate build. I wasn't skinny, but I wasn't too overweight either. I was about average, and as I looked at myself, I could easily tell there were scars present. The tan fur contrasted rather sharply with the bare skin underneath that now refused to grow anything but old.

The last thing that I wanted was to start remembering what happened. I wanted to forget, but couldn't. I threw on the clothes that he had handed me and walked out. Quickly taking a seat at a nearby booth, I set my clothes down beside me, holding my shoes in my lap.

The food arrived shortly. As the man set the food on the table, he gave me another look over. "You actually look pretty handsome with a fresh change of clothes." I looked at the food apprehensively. "Okay, you don't have to eat it or talk if you don't want to. My name is Emmanuel Hernandez. What's your name?"

"Alexander Alphonse Heinrich." The man was startled, and for a second, he didn't know what to say. I said my thanks, he nodded his head, and then he walked off.

"If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be in the back getting ready for the customers."

My own name depressed me. My mother had picked it, and after that moment, I had grown sick of hearing it while lying in that hospital bed. The astronomical figures on the paper that lay beside me also had my name written on it. That paper was my bill.

Eventually people started filing into the café. Some ate their meals in a hurry and others took their time. They held conversations at their tables and conversed with one another as the morning wore on. I hadn't even noticed the last person to come in. It was a vixen. Her eyes held the same look mine held. She sat down by herself in the other side of the café, staring and sneering in what looked like anger at all the other patrons. A black bag was by her side. Long flowing hair traveled down her back and her eyes were sharp and alert, yet full of pain.

The woman's order was taken and eventually her food arrived. She ate and then proceeded to pay her bill. Turning around, she ran into a large, red colored wolf standing behind her. He stared at her and gave her a low growl. Apologizing, she headed around, making her way out of the store.

The man was fidgeting with something in his back pocket. His ordered was placed. As soon as the register shot open and Emmanuel went to put the money in, the wolf drew a gun. He fired, causing all of the people to file out of the store in a rapid and chaotic fashion. The murderer then hopped behind the counter and started to steadily sweep what money he could obtain out of the register before stuffing the gun back into a hidden pocket and booking it out of the café.

My heart was racing, I was hiding under the table, and I was in tears.

I told them everything I knew, yet I felt like I had been worthless. Yet again, a situation occurred that rapidly spiraled out of control. It took me and what was left of my life along for the ride. The cops soon left, the ambulance toting the body back to a morgue, and everyone leaving me where I was. I had to lie and tell them I had somewhere to go. If I didn't, I'd be helpless yet again. They'd take over my life.

Emmanuel was dead. I looked around after the cops left and spied nobody. The only thing I could do was gather my things and head back to where I slept in the open park in the middle of the city, so that I could be alone with my only companion: myself.

I had almost fallen asleep when someone put their hand on my shoulder and roused me from my half-slumber. It was the vixen. "Follow me."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Hush, hush, little child, your world is going wild.

Can't trust nothin' but the love in your momma's eyes."

Shooter Jennings – Summer of Rage


	2. Chapter 2

The Mercenary

Chapter Two

-x-x-x-x-x-

I had almost fallen asleep when someone put their hand on my shoulder and roused me from my half-slumber. It was the vixen. "Follow me."

"Why should I?" I rolled back over in hopes that she would leave me alone.

"Your momma and daddy wouldn't want you to lie around and mope." When she said that, I turned back around and looked her in the eyes. She was fierce, and it seemed like she was angry.

"What do you want with me?" Her features softened, barely.

"I don't want you to let your life waste away. I want you to get up and make something of yourself instead of lying around in the ruins of what was left behind. Do you really want to be a shell of yourself?" I felt like I've had this lecture before. She was giving me the talk I had given myself those many days in that hospital bed.

That speech doesn't do any good for me anymore. "I didn't want things to be the way they were. I never chose this for myself, fate chose it for me. I don't want to confront fate anymore if it's just going to fuck me over before life gets started." With that I rolled back over and—

She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me around, her blue-furred hand flying at my face is a flurry of rage. "There are people that have it worse off than you do. I know what it feels like to go through the same feelings and emotions that you had. I was cast aside, left with nothing to my name but the fur on my back. Take it from someone who has gone through what you've gone through. The people I've had that I could call family are gone and I had to start from scratch!" Her words stung worse than her slap. "I'm giving you one last chance. You'll get up and walk to the hotel room where I'm staying and sleep in a bed tonight, or you can sit here on this park bench until you grow old."

I don't know what to do or whether or not this is fate guiding me again. Fate is said to work both ways, but it feels like I was going down instead of up. I stood from the bench, feeling distraught. "You're not my mother." She turned to walk away and I followed her out of the park and down the sidewalks. She had given me a look that told me to come with her. I didn't know where we were going. "What gives you the right to mention my mother and father?"

"Are you naïve? You were all over the news when that wreck happened." My gut wrenched like it was in a vice. "Your mother and father were two of the most successful business owners on this side of the city. Everyone knew their names. What happened to you? Why are you out here?"

"After that freightliner hit us, it killed my parents and brother." I stopped walking and she turned around to listen. "I had three metal rods driven through my gut, one of my kidneys was ruptured, and my liver was too. My face needed to have minor reconstruction surgery redone." I could feel the ridges on my abdomen as I run my hands across my belly. "They had to go in and cut out sections of my intestines and stitch them back together so I could live. I got a kidney donor to donate a kidney, and my liver regenerated after it was sewn back up. The peritoneal lining was ruptured too, so now I have a sack inside of me holding all of my guts in place." The look on her face was one of shock. "After the wreck I was put in the hospital. Since my parents were now dead, the advisory board that was helping to run the company seized the company and took all of its assets. The money my parents had worked so hard for and the company that was to be left to me and my brother to run and make grow was ripped right out of our hands. This bill is the only thing I've got with my name left on it."

"Come on, coyote."

-x-x-x-x-x-

For the first time in a long while, I'd woken up in bed sheets. It was a feeling I savored. My muscles went taut and then relaxed as I stretched without even moving my body. Looking up at the ceiling was now almost foreign to me compared to sleeping outside.

"I see you're up, Alphonse." My head rotated to the left and I could see the vixen sitting on a chair next to the wall. She was looking at me, wearing nothing but a nightshirt and her underwear. "I sit here in the morning and look out the window. I like to see the sun rise before the city comes to life."

"What's your name? Why did you invite me here last night?" The bed sheets rolled off of me as my feet touched the carpeted floor. Her bed was to the left of mine, the window that let us have a view of the city to the right, and various appliances and a door that presumably went to the bathroom were on the opposite side of the room from me. "And how do you know my name?"

She lifted up the paper and shook it vigorously in the air in front of her face, then turned it over and examined both sides while she held it. "I took the liberty to read the bill you carried with you. It's quite a lot for someone who's homeless with no money to try and pay." She paused and tossed the paper in the air at me, allowing me a moment's chance to catch it before it fell to the floor. "I'm Kursed. I have no last name, I have no middle name, and I invited you here to help get you back on your feet so you could take care of that issue you hold in your hands."

"I didn't ask for any help."

"No, you didn't, but you're standing here after following me last night aren't you?"

I couldn't say anything. She was right. "What's my business to you?"

"It's none of my business. I didn't invite you here to get in your business. I invited you here with the express purpose of getting you back on your feet, so _you_ could deal with _your_ business." She stood up, walked over to the sink, and poured herself a glass of water before sitting back down. "Get your clothes on and get dressed. We're going to find you something to do."

I couldn't believe what I stood in front of, and not less than thirty minutes later. "You're kidding right? You know I could die, right?"

"So?" I was standing in front of the entrance to a fighting arena. "It's under the table, no taxes are taken out, you walk in and out without signing any papers, you get money whether or not you lose, and you get to take out some of those frustrations you apparently have." Kursed shoved me towards the entrance. "Go on!" Waving her hands and motioning me forward, she followed behind as we went in.

The place itself was rather plain. It looked like a warehouse on the inside. The floors weren't worth mopping, but they were swept. There was a solitary desk offset to the corner of the room with a panther sitting at the desk. The only thing that I could see other than her fur was her bra. Thankfully the table hid the other half of her from view.

"Where can I apply to earn money?" She stopped filing her nails as they retracted into her paws. The tag that was hanging off of one bra strap said, "Suzanne."

"Apply to earn money? Are you serious? You're too handsome and cute to step into an arena and get your ass knocked off. You better turn around and leave." One hand shot up under the desk and came back with a set of papers that she hurriedly went to work on. "If you want to get the hell beat of you, step into that room there and talk to the manager about getting a fight scheduled. Tell him that I've been working on those papers that he asked me to work on also." She pointed to my left, earning a scowl from me. "Take that mean ass look away from me prissy boy."

I was growling by the time that I stepped through the door into the office. "Are you here to apply?" What a slinky looking raccoon. "Give me your name."

"What would I earn?" I wasn't up to the task of just blindly going into any kind of deal.

"Whatever you earn in the fight. It depends on how well the crowd likes you." He pulled out a roster and touched pen to paper. "You going to fight or not?"

"Alexander Heinrich." The raccoon looked up from the roster and examined me.

"Are you serious? I thought you were a rich boy?" The man started to chuckle to himself. "Well I guess if you were rich, you wouldn't be here now, would you?" He finished writing my name on the paper, and opened the drawer up to his left. "What size clothes do you wear?"

"Extra large." He pulled out a pair of briefs, threw them at me, and slammed the drawer shut. "What's this?" They were rather simple, being only one color: black.

"That's your boxing uniform. And before you ask, yeah, it's a uniform. Be here at a seven tonight if you want to get the shit knocked out of you." With that, I left. Kursed followed me out, without having said a word the entire time. The whole place smelled like sweat and blood.

"Are you sure about this, lady?" I looked down at the thin shorts in my hand. They looked like they were already used, much to my disgust.

"I'm sure. Oh, and you might want to wash those when we get back". That was the first time I'd heard her laugh or seen her smile. For a second, she seemed like a completely different person.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Alright, now was the time. My back was against the ropes; my feet were poised. The only thing separating my ass from the floor was the distance between me and the slightly taller-than-average wolf that was in the opposite corner of the ring. He looked at me and gave me a sadistic smile and growl. "I'm going to whoop your ass boy."

The bell rang and I moved into the center of the ring with my fists up ready to block any attacks. "This is just business, okay?"

The wolf's hand shot towards my arms, shoved them to the side, and his left hand made contact with the side of my face. I was standing just a fraction of a second ago, but now he was looking over me as my world was blurred. "You're going to have todo a lot better than that." He kicked me. "This isn't boxing, this is fighting."

The only thing I could do at the moment was lash out with my feet. I rolled over. My right foot caught his shin right below the wolf's knee as he tumbled to the mat with a yell and landed across my legs. I scooted back from him as he flung himself off of me in a hurry. "You little bastard!" Here he came again.

As I stood, one punch landed in my gut, another hit me in the side of the face, and I felt his arms grab me and shove me to the floor. The wolf—his name was Raul—was on top of me, hitting me in the face over and over with his right fist. I managed to move my head to my right as his knuckles contacted the mat and the concrete right beneath it. With a quick motion, my elbow kissed his jaw and I rolled on top of him.

Rather than doing what he did, I struck out with either fist, one after the other. They were hard, deliberate blows, and blood started to pour from his muzzle. I hit him until his body went limp and the bell rang.

The previously quiet audience now cheered loudly. "We have our victor!"

-x-x-x-x-x-

"No one's gonna take me alive, the time has come to make things right.

You and I must fight for our rights. You and I must fight to survive."

Muse – Knights of Cydonia


End file.
